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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582686">A Grave Mistake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorseOmens/pseuds/WorseOmens'>WorseOmens</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Good Omens Outsider POVs [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angry Aziraphale, Crowley got summoned, Incorrectly presumed death, M/M, Medical Emergency, Misunderstandings, References to Illness, humans just trying their best, it looks like character death but I promise it is not, outsider pov, paramedics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:20:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorseOmens/pseuds/WorseOmens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley has been summoned by cultists, which is problematic enough as it is without having to factor in what happens when his empty corporation gets left behind. </p><p>(Sequel to "The Whole Being Summoned Thing")</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Good Omens Outsider POVs [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545919</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Good Omens</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Grave Mistake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I apologise in advance to anyone with actual medical training. I know a grand total of next to nothing about responding to serious medical emergencies or the procedures of an ambulance crew, so just remember, it's a piece of fiction. It's not totally true to life and that's ok.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Mr Crowley crumpled to the floor, apropos of nothing, in the lobby of his apartment building, it took a moment before anyone managed to act. One moment he was sauntering off toward the doors with a toothy smile, dressed to kill, and the next, he just... stopped. It all happened so suddenly. It was the old lady who lived below him - Vera - who reacted the fastest. "Mr Crowley!" she shouted hoarsely, hobbling towards him in an odd, lumbering gait. The landlord, Eve, quickly followed suit. "He's not breathing!"</p><p>Eve fumbled for her phone. "I'm calling 999," she said, her fingers shaking as she typed the numbers. Vera struggled to her knees, her age straining her, and gave Crowley a slap across the face. He didn't stir. She drew back with a cry, clutching her hand like the slap had stung her instead.</p><p>"He's stone cold already!" she said. It seemed impossible, unless he'd been a dead man walking through the lobby just a moment ago. Eve collapsed beside him as she spoke to the operator, who guided her to feel for Crowley's pulse. There was a moment of tense silence as she pressed her fingers against his neck.</p><p>"It's... it's not there," she said, dragged through a sob. She grabbed a fistful of her greying hair as the operator urged her to stay calm, and began to tell her what to do until the ambulance arrived. She had to try and pump the blood around Crowley's body manually, occasionally giving him breaths of air to make those efforts worth something. She thrust the phone into Vera's hands and did as she was told. Mr Crowley had been a tenant of hers since time immemorial, and she’d be dammed to see him go this way.</p><p>As she clasped her hands in place over his heart and fell into a rhythm, her frantic mind drifted through all the time she’d known Crowley. He was older than he looked. Much older; he had to be in his eighties now at least, though perhaps her memory had failed her. Maybe he looked younger than she remembered when she’d taken over the building. She glanced up, watching the tears track down Vera’s face as the 999 operator tried to keep her calm. The last thing they needed was another person having a heart attack.</p><p>“No, no, he wasn’t doing anything! He just fell down like a puppet with his strings cut,” Vera said hysterically as the operator spoke. There was a muffled voice on the line, and the old lady gasped, deeply offended by whatever they’d asked. “Most certainly not! Anthony is a very nice boy — he brings me new houseplants almost every week! Hardly a spot on them! How dare you, he’d never get himself mixed up in all that!”</p><p>Eve should’ve told her to calm down, but she liked to think she wasn’t a hypocrite, so she stayed quiet. An approaching siren made her breath catch in her throat. Please, oh please, let that be the ambulance... She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up for. The lobby doors crashed open, and relief flooded her body as a bright yellow paramedic’s coat appeared beside her.</p><p>“I’ll take it from here, love,” she said, smiling kindly, as her colleague dashed over to join her with a defibrillator in-hand. </p><p>Eve breathlessly thanked her, glad to scramble away from that cold, lifeless body. A bone-deep dread had settled over her, one that refused to leave even as she pulled Vera to her feet and into a hug. The paramedics opened Mr Crowley's shirt, sticking the defibrillator pads down and getting clear. The machine beeped. Crowley didn't respond, didn't stir, didn't suddenly sit up gasping for breath... They tried again. They pulled open his eyelids, shining a light, testing if his pupils were responding. The first paramedic on scene squeaked and almost jumped back when a yellow slitted eye stared back at her, before she steeled herself again and ran the test. Deformed pupils were a known medical phenomena. Simple as that. Regardless of their shape, they were indifferent to the torch she shone in his eye. Her heart sank. The man wasn't responding to anything they tried. Her partner, Charlie, asked if the patient had any wounds, a history of drug use, or brain injury. The landlord said no, not that she knew of. By then, both paramedics began to lose hope. Crowley's pulse was a steady zero beats per minute, and his skin was cold to the touch. The first paramedic finally sat back, leaning on her knees, feeling heavy with the defeat. She didn't get into this job for moments like this, but tragedy was an occupational hazard. They just weren't fast enough this time. </p><p>She bit the inside of her cheek. "He's gone," she said hoarsely. She checked her watch, keeping her voice low and respectful. "Time of death, nine thirty-six."</p><p>The two older women stifled their sobs, clinging to one another as they heard the news that they'd both dreaded. "Ruby, hey," murmured her partner, Charlie, who'd been with her since her first day on the job. He lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. "Don't beat yourself up. We did everything we could, but... I think he was gone before we got here."  </p><p>"Then we should have been faster," she said stubbornly, getting to her feet to storm off toward the ambulance. They needed a gurney, and something to cover the body. Probably a body bag, on this occasion; there would probably be an autopsy, if the collapse was as sudden and unexplained as the 999 call had made it sound. Maybe he'd been poisoned, thought a cynical corner of her mind as she pulled out the gurney. It could have been sepsis, even. Blood poisoning struck fast, and took no prisoners. That, or it was something as cruel and random as a stroke, though he showed absolutely no symptoms. </p><p>She wheeled in the gurney, and Charlie left the two witnesses briefly to help her lift the body. They had done this only a handful of times, but no matter what, it never got easier. Ruby didn't want it to get easier. She never wanted to forget what she was fighting for, when she was called to the scene of an emergency to save a life. Charlie let her begin to zip up the bag, turning to the lobby doors to fetch shock blankets for Eve and Vera. He was halfway to the doors when he spotted a man in a white coat hurrying across the car park, checking his watch. Vera wailed. "Good lord, no!" she cried, her hand flying to her mouth. She sniffled. "It's Mr Fell!"</p><p>Ruby and Charlie tensed up, split between the rapidly approaching stranger and the women. "Who?" Charlie asked. </p><p>"Mr Crowley's other half," Eve explained tearfully, nodding toward the eerily still form on the gurney. "Please, please be gentle with him. They've been together for so long. They were so happy..."</p><p>Ruby cursed under her breath, hurrying to meet the man at the doors. "Excuse me, are you Mr Fell?" she said as he stopped, straining to look over her shoulder at the commotion in the lobby. </p><p>"Yes, and I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a hurry. Terribly sorry, dear girl, could you let me through?" he said, trying to step past her, though she blocked his path. "I just need to get to the lift. My partner is terribly late, he was supposed to be picking me up half an hour ago." </p><p>"Sir, would you please come outside with me to the ambulance where you can sit down? I'm afraid I have some bad news for you," she said, trying to urge him back out the door. His breath caught.</p><p>"No," he said, terror flashing in his eyes. He shouldered past her with surprising strength, shocking Charlie to attention as he heard his partner's loud protests. Charlie grabbed his arm, trying to push him back as he approached the gurney where Crowley's body lay, but a human trying to contain a principality was like using a sheet of paper to stop a bullet train. Aziraphale barely noticed. He took in the sight: Crowley was pale, his corporation empty, but not damaged. He was in one piece, without a hint of any holy weapon nearby, and that meant one thing. He'd been summoned. He breathed a sigh of relief, to the deep confusion of the watching humans. "Oh, thank heavens. He's alright. I was worried for a moment there." </p><p>Ruby and Charlie shared a glance. "Sir, I'm sorry to tell you this, but... he's passed away," Ruby said. Charlie gave the angel a wide berth, ushering Eve and Vera out of the lobby, telling them to look after one another until they could calm Mr Fell down.</p><p>"No, no, he hasn't," Aziraphale said, shaking his head. He shot her an awkward smile. "I can see how you would make that mistake, but he's quite alive. He'll be awake again shortly, I'm certain of it." </p><p>She bit her lip, relieved when Charlie returned to her side, the other witnesses safely out of the picture. They had never seen a loved one in denial this deep before. They had no idea how he was going to respond when they tried to contradict him again. "I am so sorry, Mr Fell, and I realise this is a lot to take in," Charlie said, holding out his hand. "But Mr Crowley won't be waking up, okay? I realise that - that might be a frightening thought, but - " </p><p>"Frightened? I'm not frightened," he snapped, beginning to lose his temper. He didn't appreciate it when humans talked down to him. He was old enough to be the progenitor of their entire species, and here they were addressing him like <em>he</em> was the child! "In fact, I feel rather patronised. I know my Crowley, and he can't just drop dead out of nowhere. He'll be back in just two shakes of a lamb's tail." </p><p>"Will you at least come to the ambulance with me, so - um - so we can show you our equipment? Perhaps it might make you feel a bit better about our evaluation," Charlie suggested, shooting Ruby a look. She returned it with a minute nod. They were on the same page: she needed to call the hospital for a psychiatric evaluation, and a family liaison to manage the fallout, while Charlie distracted him. </p><p>"I hardly see how that's necessary. He's - He's sleeping, after a fashion," he said, his strident attitude faltering for a moment before returning full force. "If you insist, then fine, I'll look at whatever modern contraptions you have - but it won't change my mind, I warn you!"</p><p>Charlie beckoned him toward the doors. "This way, sir," he said, shooting a look back at Ruby as they went. He'd keep him talking for as long as possible in the ambulance, tell him what they'd done to try and resuscitate Crowley step by step, and show him every piece of equipment they had used. The doors closed behind them, sealing the sounds out. With a tiny sigh, Ruby zipped up the bag the rest of the way, unnerved by that stark pale face among the black material. Then, she took out her phone, dialling the hospital. She willed them to pick up faster, glancing outside for any sign of Mr Fell storming back in. They couldn't afford to forget the two other women, too, who would need support as they came to terms with witnessing a death up close and personal. It was almost too much to handle. She explained the situation to the hospital, who agreed to dispatch another vehicle to bring Mr Fell into hospital for an emergency assessment with a psychiatrist. Charlie did an admirable job of keeping Mr Fell occupied, because by the time the emergency response car arrived, he was only just stepping out the back of the ambulance again. Ruby took a deep breath, and began pushing the gurney out of the building towards the ambulance. Charlie gave her a pained smile, coming over to help.</p><p>Mr Fell's face twisted in anger when he saw the other car arrive. "Now you stop right there!" he said, storming toward the gurney. Ruby stepped up to the plate this time, coming to meet him. He didn't seem aggressive, at least - just confused, and hurting so deeply that he didn't even know it. "You can't just take him away! You can't! He's not dead! I've seen all those blasted thingamajigs you have, and I'm telling you, they're wrong!" </p><p>"Mr Fell, please, you need to calm down," she said, gesturing for the driver of the emergency car to stay seated until she could get this under control. Charlie stood by in case things began to escalate. "We need to take you to the hospital so you can have a check-up, okay? We're just trying to help." </p><p>"Help? Oh, this is a very fine to-do. Now you think there's something the matter with me as well!" he said, and when he would look back on the situation later, he would reluctantly admit that he perhaps got a little hysterical. "You're not taking that corp - I mean, that man anywhere!" </p><p>She winced, hearing what she thought was a Freudian slip, almost admitting his partner was now a corpse rather than a person; in reality, Aziraphale had only been about to say 'corporation', but he didn't want to look any more mad than he already did. "Mr Fell, please," she begged, almost breaking down into tears out of desperation. How deeply did you need to love someone, for their passing to be this unthinkable? What had this man had ripped away from him? The whole world, she thought. It must be. A shout from behind drew her attention, and she whirled around, her heart jolting. She gasped.</p><p>The body bag was thrashing around in a panic. Charlie fumbled for the zip, pulling it open, and Crowley sprang free with a shout and a curse, flapping his arms and very much alive. He wrinkled his nose up, squinting at the flashing red-and-blue lights around him. Charlie stood beside him, utterly dumbstruck, all colour draining from his face. It was impossible! His heart had stopped. He wasn't breathing. He had been stone cold on the floor... He and Crowley stared at one another for a moment. When later reviewing the experience with his counsellor, Charlie would recall it as singly the most awkward moment of his entire life.</p><p>“Oh, thank heavens! Finally!” cried Aziraphale, shouldering his way past Ruby with a withering look. He really ought to have been kinder, but he was far too wound up for that. He went running to his demon's side, grasping his hand tightly. “Crowley, my dear, I’m glad you’re awake.”</p><p>“Angel, great, glad you’re here," he said, brightening up at the sight of him. Neither entity took any notice of the two humans who were looking at one another, both clearly expecting to jolt awake in their beds at any moment. "Look, sorry about missing out on the play...”</p><p>He tutted. “Oh, not at all! I’ve had a rather eventful evening on my own,” he said with a sharp glare at the paramedics. They hung their heads, shying away from his harsh look. Turns out he hadn't just been in hysterics after all. “I‘ve been trying to explain to these young whippersnappers that you are not, in fact, dead, no matter what their doo-dads and gizmoes have been telling them.”</p><p>“Dead?” he echoed, and looked down at the bag still trapping his legs. “Was I in a <em>body bag?”</em></p><p>"I know!" he said, unzipping it the rest of the way and helping him down off the gurney. "I wasn't best pleased, either, I don't mind telling you!" </p><p>"Yeah, well, I think they've learnt their lesson," he said, taking Aziraphale's elbow and guiding him back toward the block of flats. Date night was a write-off, but damn, did he have a story to tell about where he'd been summoned to that night. Anyway, the paramedics looked like they could use a shock blanket for themselves, nevermind their patients. "C'mon, let's get out of the cold."</p><p>Ruby was the first to snap out of her shock, and shout after them as they linked arms and headed back inside. "Hey! Wait! Mr Crowley, you just had some sort of major medical emergency! You can't just pretend nothing happened," she protested, about to go running after them until Charlie grasped her arm. He stared, ashen-faced, at Crowley's bright yellow eyes, feeling the shape of the crucifix under his uniform. He didn't want Ruby going near him again.</p><p>"Nah. I wasn't dead, remember? Must've just overdone it on the whisky," he said nonchalantly, despite the fact there wasn't so much as a whiff of alcohol on him. He gave them a small wave and a smile before he closed the lobby doors, eager to take Aziraphale upstairs and put on a pot of decent coffee. "But thanks anyway, guys. It's the thought that counts, eh? Ciao."</p>
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